


Spring Cleaning

by IncurablePeppermint



Category: UniKitty! (Cartoon)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Cleaning, Cutesy, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, House Cleaning, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 11:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16407875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncurablePeppermint/pseuds/IncurablePeppermint
Summary: Master Frown hates cleaning, but he has a bet to win, cookies to eat, and Rat kings to keep out of his apartment.





	Spring Cleaning

Master Frown doesn't remember exactly how he ended up doing this, but he hates it. Ever since the Rat king incident he and Brock have been keeping the apartment in better shape for the sake of not waking up to a circle of screaming rodent terror in the night. So that is at least  _ part _ of the reason why he's scraping old macaroni into an already overfilled trash can.

But why him, again? Usually Brock does all this stupid house stuff. Even before they had their emergency meeting on top of the kitchen table at three am while screaming Brock usually did the dishes and bought paper towels and put the frowny face chicken nuggets into the fridge to thaw. Master Frown has better stuff to do. Like ruining people’s days.

He tosses the pot and spatula into the sink and then turns back to the garbage with a disgusted shiver. “You can do it, Frown. It’s all you.” Living in relative cleanliness has made him soft. The thought of accidentally touching some cold, days old pasta is at the front of his mind, making him hesitate. He turns his head away, only watching through peripheral vision as he pulls the edges of the garbage bag up and then tugs the plastic drawstrings to seal it up.

As soon as he ties it he hurries over to the sink and washes his hands, fighting against the urge to gag. “That’s it, that’s it. I’m done. I don’t know  _ why _ I’m doing this and I hate it.” He dries his hands on his robes and moves over to the refrigerator to hunt for a snack to pass the time. As he opens it there is a click and a sound like a cassette tape rewinding. He looks around suspiciously. 

“Hello,” Brock’s voice chimes out from behind yesterday’s leftover Taco Star, “If you are Master Frown and hearing this, then you probably forgot what you were doing, again. And that’s understandable, you get forgetful when you’re annoyed.” Master frown glares at the pink and purple wrappers that seem to be giving him a lecture. “We switched jobs for today, which means that you are supposed to be cleaning. If you have opened the fridge because you are hungry, please ignore this message!”

Well, farts. After stuffing half of a cold burrito into his mouth Master Frown closes the fridge and gets back to his cleaning. He and Brock had an argument because Master Frown doesn’t want to help with the housework. Which, obviously he doesn’t, he has a _ job _ and can’t wear himself out scrubbing the bathtub. And of  _ course _ he forgot why he was cleaning, it’s a grating task and he doesn’t understand why Brock bothers. He looks at the trash bag and shivers as he swallows down the burrito. Alright, he sort of understands. They were gross. A change was needed even before the Rat king incident.

He pulls the bag out of the can and then carries it outside, holding it as far away from his body as possible. He stands out on the fire escape and waits for a moment, watching, before he spots a Frowntown citizen walking along the sidewalk. Then he grins and throws the bag towards them with maniacal laugh. It super misses, but the citizen is startled and runs. Either way, the bag isn’t  _ his _ problem anymore.

Back inside, Master Frown surveys the living room. There’s no way in Frowntown he’s going to  _ wash dishes _ . Even if he’s doing this to prove that it’s not a hard job he is not going to do that, no way. He fluffs the pillows and re-adjusts the blankets on the couch. He picks up old wrappers, just carrying them in the crook of his arm until he gives in and runs to the kitchen for a trash bag. He waters the plants before he realizes at least three of them are fake plants, then he sits on the couch with his arms crossed because he’s angry that he’s been fooled by a pretend petunia.

While he’s still seething about phony flora, the front door opens up. “Master Frown, how’s the cleaning going,” Brock asks as he steps into the apartment stuffed into one of Frown’s spare robes. There’s also a bunch of puffy stickers stuck to him. “Whoa, you actually did some stuff? I thought for sure you’d just go off to do Doom Lord stuff.”

“What? You didn’t think I was capable?”

“No, no! I think you  _ can _ , I just didn’t think you  _ would _ .”

“Well, I proved you wrong. I cleaned the whole apartment.”

Brock seems excited. He heads into the kitchen and grimaces, then checks out the bathroom and sighs. “Well, you cleaned the living room. And took out the trash. Which is more than you usually do. Thanks Master Frown.”

He blushes a little and turns to look away as Brock sits beside him on the couch. “I don’t need a thank you. I proved you wrong, so I don’t have to help anymore! That’s what I wanted out of this.”

Brock chuckles. “That wasn’t our deal.”

“What?”

He pulls a tape recorder out of his robes and holds it up, then presses a blue button on the sides. Master Frown stares at it in horror and pales. He is fully aware of their actual deal, but was hoping he could get away with this.

“So, you’re saying if you can’t clean the whole apartment tomorrow, you’ll help me with the chores from now on?”

“Yeah, sure. But I can and I will! It’s not like it’s  _ hard _ , Brock.”

“Uh huh.”

“And when I do, I want you to bake me a batch of cookies. Just for me.”

“Sure.”

“And... And you have to do my job tomorrow! It’s much harder than  _ cleaning _ !”

Master Frown knocks the recorder down to the floor and it makes a whirring noise before it stops altogether. “Hey, unnecessary roughness, dude,” Brock protests, picking up the device and pocketing it. 

“Yeah, whatever. What time is it?”

“Like, ten. Why?”

“Then I still have two hours to prove you wrong and get out of chores!”

“What? There’s no way you’re going to clean everything in here in two hours, it’s way too much.”

Before Brock can even finish protesting Master Frown has disappeared into the bathroom and opens up the under-sink cabinet to reveal hidden cleaning supplies. He hurriedly yanks back the shower curtain and sprays down the tub, then moves on to the toilet and sink. He does an antsy little dance as he waits for the spray to foam and the second it starts to he grabs a sponge and wipes everything down. It’s cleaner, but definitely streaky.

“Dude, are you serious right now?”

“I’m always serious, Brock!”

“Are you really this determined not to help me out? I thought you cared about me.”

Master Frown freezes, then turns to see Brock, who has tears building up in his eyes. He drops the sponge. “Dude, of course I care about you.” He just doesn’t want to help maintain the living space that they share and never scrapes out the unfinished food he cooks and belittles the work Brock does to keep their home livable. He grimaces and then rubs the back of his head nervously. “Okay. Okay. Bet’s off.”

“For real?”

“Yeah.”

“But are you gonna go back to ignoring all the housework or-”

“No! I’ll help. I did housework today and it  _ sucked _ and I didn’t even do that much. I shouldn’t make you do it alone.”

“Really dude?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Well I hope you don’t mind that I can’t help you with your Doom Lord stuff. I just ended up playing with Unikitty all day.” 

Master Frown twitches and grits his teeth. He forces a smile and nods. “It’s fine that you can’t do that. I like it by myself.” His voice escalates into a yell, “But why did you have to go hang out with my arch enemy all day?”

Brock picks him up bridal style and gives him a squeeze. It’s a poorly veiled attempt to pacify Master Frown, but it works. Master Frown feels the anger leave his body until he’s just slightly miffed.  “Well, I went to Unikingdom because the Frowntown citizens are so sad already, I didn’t want to bother them. And then when I got there I ran into Unikitty and she had a new sticker book she wanted to show me.”

“That  _ does _ explain why you’re coated in puffy stickers.”

“Uh huh. But listen, dude. How about we make cookies together and then we can relax with some video games.”

“Sounds great.”


End file.
